


Midnight Train

by bananacabana



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Homeless, Angst with a Happy Ending, Christmas, First Meetings, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-07
Updated: 2016-12-07
Packaged: 2018-09-07 01:00:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8776861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bananacabana/pseuds/bananacabana
Summary: After discovering some awful news, Kurt catches the last train back to Columbus early on Christmas morning, wanting only to be home with his family. On this train Kurt will find a boy who has nothing but also has nothing to lose. Homeless!Blaine.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I actually wrote this about 2 years then forgot to post it so I had to wait a whole year for Christmas to come around again, then I forgot again...oops. Partially inspired by a kind stranger who gave me a pack of tissues when I was crying on a train after hearing some awful news. Dedicated to my friend up in the sky <3  
> Enjoy!

Kurt's heart races as he steps onto the train, having run from the taxi to the platform faster than he thought possible. He hears the whistle blow to announce the train's imminent departure before the doors are shut and the slow, jerk of a start sets him in motion. He can't believe he made it.

Upon hanging up the phone with his father earlier that evening, Kurt had immediately booked the last train from New York to Ohio that night, not having the funds for a flight and just wanting to be home more than anything. What he had failed to realise though was that he had left himself with just 45 minutes to pack his bag and get on the train.

The carriage is mostly empty but then not many people travel at 1am on Christmas morning so Kurt isn't particularly surprised. He's relieved he'll have a peaceful journey at least. There's just one other person in his carriage. He's asleep and looks like he hasn't showered in a week at least so Kurt opts for the opposite aisle, several rows behind. Reserved seating be damned.

After tossing his bag in the overhead compartment, Kurt collapses into his seat, taking a deep breath, then another, willing his heart rate to return to normal. The train has picked up speed and is hurtling along reasonably fast as Kurt watches the city lights sweep past him, eyes locked on nothing in particular while he gazes out the window. For the first time since he'd hung up the phone, Kurt is left alone with his thoughts and like a swarm of bees, all of his anxieties and fears are upon him.

He can't quite believe this is happening. It seems a lifetime ago that his dad was recovering from his heart attack and Kurt had lulled himself into a false sense of security, _what doesn’t kill him will only make him stronger_. Things had been going fine, his dad was healthier than ever, and Kurt was in the city of his dreams attending one of the most prestigious dramatic arts colleges in the country. He was supposed to be on his way up yet here is in the dead of night travelling home to lazy Lima. It all catches up with him so fast. This isn't something that can be fixed with healthy eating and regular exercise. This is serious.

Kurt feels like he's going to be sick.

He doesn't even bother trying to stop the tears from flowing, the train is practically empty anyway and Kurt hasn't the energy to put on his mask just yet. He cries for his dad because, while he might be playing at adulthood, Kurt still feels like a child most of the time. He needs his dad more than anything, being away from home has only made him surer of this. It might have been a spontaneous and irrational decision but there is nowhere Kurt would rather be right now than on his way home, except maybe home itself.

Bringing an arm to his dampened face, Kurt angrily swipes at his tears. It's not fair. After everything, fate still isn't finished with him. His whole life feels like one disaster after another.

"Here," a kind voice says softly. Kurt turns his head to see the stranger from earlier standing in the aisle offering a pack of tissues. He's vaguely aware that his face must be swollen and blotchy but not caring the least. "You look like you could use these."

"Thanks," he replies with uncertainty, his voice cracking as he takes the pack from the stranger. He leaves then but from that point Kurt can’t help but be intrigued. He watches through the gap between the seats in front as the stranger returns to his own seat and clutches his bag to his chest like it's the most precious thing in the world as he gazes out of the window, looking to be lost to his own thoughts.

Kurt wipes his face dry and blows his nose before trying to calm himself down. His dad is okay for now at least, it's not like he had been given so many months to live. Anything could happen from this point out, Kurt just has to try and stay positive.

The outside world is racing past through the window and all Kurt can see is a blur of lights mixed with darkness. Kurt checks his watch, sighing when he sees it's just ten minutes past one and wonders how he's supposed to kill three and a half hours.

He looks over to the stranger again, twisting the pack of tissues between his hands and debating whether he should give the rest of the pack back now that he's managed to pull himself together and stop crying. Kurt has to admit, he's not entirely certain of the appropriate tissue borrowing etiquette. The boy is slumped in his seat, still gazing absently out of the window. Kurt estimates him to be youngish, no older than himself at least, although the stubble growing on his chin could easily have fooled him. Quite frankly, he looks a mess. His hair is scruffy and unwashed, much like his clothes and the bags under his eyes suggest many sleepless nights. Kurt's first assumption is that he's homeless but then how would he have been able to afford the train ticket if so?

The boy glances at Kurt, prompting him to quickly avert his gaze and settle for staring out the window once more.

About half an hour passes. Kurt wastes half his phone battery playing games until he grows bored. A woman pushing a trolley is making her way towards them with hot drinks and snacks for sale. The stranger politely declines, smiling apologetically as she passes on her way to Kurt.  The woman looks almost as tired as Kurt feels and he can't help but feel for her, having to work this late on Christmas serving a practically empty train.

Kurt orders a cup of coffee and a sandwich before glancing over to the boy whose eyes are drooping and arms are squeezing his bag tightly to his stomach. He doubles his order.

"You look like you could use this," Kurt says, placing the coffee and the sandwich on the table in front of the stranger. He looks up, surprise colouring his bright hazel eyes as his mouth drops open slightly. Kurt smiles. "Just to say thanks for...well, just thanks."

"Oh I-I couldn't," the boy stutters, clearly flustered at the gesture.

"You might as well, I've already paid for it so..." Kurt laughs, feeling a little awkward just hovering over him. "Mind if I join you? It's a long journey and I don't want to be left alone with my own thoughts for too long."

"Of course not," the guy smiles, nodding at the seat opposite, "And thank you." Kurt smiles as he takes a seat, setting his drink and sandwich on their shared table. He watches as the stranger hesitantly sets his bag on to the seat beside him and cradles the coffee cup in both hands, letting the warmth radiate through his holed gloves while Kurt takes a sip of his own.

"I'm Kurt, by the way," Kurt offers as a proper greeting. The boy smiles shyly.

"Blaine." Blaine lifts his hand, as though intending to offer a handshake but seems to think twice before focusing his gaze back at his drink. "I hope...everything is okay."

"It's not but what can you do?" Kurt says with a shrug to which Blaine responds with a frown. "My dad has cancer." And just like that, the big C word is out there. Saying it out loud feels like hearing the news all over again, hearing his own voice utter that one word only seems to make it all seem so much more real, like it's a tangible thing he can now see and touch. He can already feel the tears welling up again and grabs the rest of the tissues Blaine had given him from his pocket.

"I'm so sorry," Blaine says, voice laced with sympathy and Kurt finds it odd because Blaine is a complete stranger and yet he sounds so genuinely sorry. Kurt glances up, sees his tattered clothes and unwashed hair and immediately feels a stab of guilt. Sure things aren't exactly great but this guy clearly has his own problems and he doesn't need Kurt unloading everything on him. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"My dad is everything to me. He's just always been there I-I don't know what I'd do without him. I can't lose him. I have no idea what I'm doing I just don't really know how to handle all this. I'm sorry, I don't mean to-"

"No, hey, it's okay!" Blaine reassures, "I guess this explains the midnight train ride on Christmas morning, huh?"

"Pretty much. What about you?" Kurt asks, wanting to talk about something - anything else.

"Just...visiting my parents for the holidays," This strikes Kurt as odd. There's no denying that Blaine has had it rough and anyone would be able to tell from Blaine's severe pause that he wasn't telling the whole truth.

"Aren't you leaving it a little late?" Kurt prompts. He knows he's pushing perhaps a little too far but somehow nothing seems to add up with this painfully hopeful yet utterly downtrodden guy. His personality just doesn't seem to match with his appearance, it’s like he’d accidentally put the wrong clothes on that morning and is pretending to be somebody else. He doesn't answer Kurt's question, instead stares blankly at the table and the food in front of him. "You can eat it, you know," Kurt says, suppressing a chuckle. Bright eyes glance up at Kurt and he's smiling as he unwraps the sandwich. Kurt does the same with his own and they eat in silence, passing the next few minutes in peaceful solitude and merely enjoying the company of another soul. Kurt tries not to think too much about his father, banishing all the doubts and hypotheticals from his mind. He instead studies Blaine, makes a mental note of his torn jacket with holes in the elbows, of his dirty, unshaven skin and messed up hair. He tries to see past it, see the person hiding underneath the indignity and he's sure that behind it all is just a boy.

"How old are you?" he asks before he can stop himself, curiosity overpowering politeness. Blaine frowns in confusion before answering.

"Seventeen. Why?"

"And you don't live with your parents?" Of course not every seventeen year old lives with their parents but enough of them do to make Kurt's suspicion valid. It's not the question that he's asking though, not entirely. What he wants to ask is wrapped up in his own assumptions. _You don't live with anyone? You don't live anywhere?_

"...No." Blaine doesn't meet his eye, instead gazes solemnly out the window and Kurt immediately feels rotten for prying.

"I'm sorry, I'm being way too invasive."

"Look, I know what you're thinking."

"I wasn't - "

"It's okay, you might as well know. I've been homeless for the last two years. I ran away from home with just two hundred dollars in my back pocket. I was fifteen, I don't know what I expected to happen. What _did_ happen was reality. I got smacked in the face with it big time."

"You ran away?"

"My parents are not the nicest of people."

"So why go back to them?" Kurt searches Blaine's face, he can see the pain they caused him in his grimace at the question. He can see how Blaine has been asking himself the same thing.

"I don't...I don't know. I think a part of me is hoping that maybe, just maybe they missed me. That maybe they've changed. I know it's a long shot, I know they'll never change, not really, but trust me, anything is better than sleeping rough. It's miserable and cold and lonely. I'm in a constant state of worry over where I'm gonna sleep, when I'm gonna be able to eat again, if I'm safe. It's humiliating and degrading and everyone just walks right past me because it's not their problem. Ever since I left home I've been asking myself over and over if I had made the biggest mistake of my life. I mean, I would have only had to stick it out for a few more years. I could have graduated high school, gone to college. I ran, Kurt, and it's something that I really regret. Because now I'm nobody and I'll never get to be anybody. So yeah, I'm going back to them, if they’ll let me. God, it wasn't an easy decision to make and it took me months just to save up enough money to travel back to Ohio but I'm going to set my life straight. I don't want to spend the rest of my life begging people to be able to eat."

Kurt has no response. He feels as though his heart is breaking. He can't understand how the world could be so cruel as to let this happen, to put someone like Blaine in such a position as this, stuck between a rock and a hard place. He can only imagine what he must have gone through both at home and on the streets.

"I think you're very brave," Kurt eventually says after several long minutes with only the rapid beating of the wheels on the tracks to fill the air. "But, forgive me for saying this, I think you're making a mistake."

"I'm sorry?" Kurt ignores the hurt in his eyes in favour of continuing.

"You left for a reason. I don't know what your parents did to you and I'm not asking but if it was enough to make you leave home, to abandon everything to escape, then I don't think it's something worth going back for."

"Well then what am I supposed to do?" Blaine mutters. He looks helpless. What Kurt is saying makes sense and he must both know it and despise the fact.

"You can come stay with me."

Blaine looks as though he can't believe his ears and for a second Kurt could swear that he seems to be considering the offer but he dismisses the very idea with a huff and a shake of his head. As for Kurt, it seems like the most obvious and perfect answer. The underlying issue of the fact that he doesn't actually know Blaine, that he has absolutely no reason to trust him is inconsequential. Because Kurt feels as though he does trust him and Kurt doesn't trust all that easily. "I'm serious."

"No, you're not," Blaine say quietly.

"We have a spare room, it wouldn't be a problem, and you can come back to New York with me after Christmas and-” Kurt may be getting ahead of himself but once he gets an idea in his head, he tends to just run with it.

"This is...this is insane. You don't know me and you certainly don't owe me anything, please, Kurt. Besides your dad is sick and it's Christmas, I can't intrude, I couldn't possibly." And there it is again, the brief flicker of consideration that Kurt uses as his hook.

"My dad is a fighter. And from what I gather so are you. But you don't have to fight all the time, Blaine. There's no shame in running away from something that hurts you. Please, let me help you."

Blaine says nothing, his mouth hangs open as though he's trying to form some sort of response but he clearly has none. What Kurt is offering him could turn his life around, how could he possibly refuse? "I'm going to take your silence as a yes."

When Blaine looks up, Kurt can see that there are tears in his eyes.

"I don't - I'll never be able to thank you enough," he whispers.

Blaine doesn't say much for the rest of the journey and when he does say something he does so in such a small, submissive voice that Kurt feels like he'd break if he speaks just a decibel too loudly.

They pull into Columbus at 4:30am. Kurt can feel his eyes drooping with the mere weight of his eyelids. They get a taxi back to Lima, another cost that Kurt could do without but he doesn't exactly have a choice. Blaine sits awkwardly in the taxi and Kurt can see that he's shaking slightly. He wants to reassure him that everything is fine, even with something as simple as a touch of the hand but he has no idea how Blaine would react to such a touch. All he can do is keep to himself and hope that this lost boy he has found will be okay.

Being home again is strange. The house is decorated for Christmas but it's lifeless. The lights are all off and the tinsel seems to hang limply from the walls. It is, however, 6am and Kurt isn't exactly expecting a warm welcome back.

Blaine is taking a shower while Kurt paces his room, thinking of the last time he was here, hopeful and excited for whatever awaited him in New York. Now it feels as though nothing is quite right. His dad is sick and the full force of what exactly that means hits him once again when he's alone. Picking up a framed photograph from his shelf, Kurt wills himself not to cry. It's of the two of them at his dad's wedding when he got remarried to Carole. They're both wearing suits and smiling so bright that it seems impossible they could be where they are now.

"Kurt?" Kurt spins on his heel to the doorway to where his dad is standing in his pyjamas, blinking wearily at the bright light in Kurt's room.

"Hi, dad."

"Kiddo, I told you, you didn't have to come."

"How could I not? It's Christmas and - and I just want to be with you."

"I thought you wanted to spend Christmas in the city?"

"I thought I did too. I wanted to be a grown up, having a mature celebration with a few friends but...I was wrong. Christmas is about family, it's about us." Burt crosses the distance and envelopes Kurt in a warm embrace and despite having the wind knocked out of him, Kurt feels like he can breathe for the first time since he found out. His dad is here holding him, alive and kicking and Kurt knows he's going to fight, knows that this isn't going to break him. His dad will pull through.

"Speaking of friends," Burt says after pulling away. He nods towards the bathroom.

"That's Blaine he...had nowhere to spend Christmas. I didn't want him to be alone, so I asked if he wanted to come. I hope it's okay?" It's not a lie but Kurt can't exactly tell his dad the truth about Blaine.

"'Course it's okay," Burt assures, "so is he a friend or is he a _friend_?" Kurt feels his face immediately heat up.

"Dad!" he groans.

"He sleeps in the guest room though, got it? At least until I've met the guy."

"Of course he's sleeping in the guest room because he's my _friend_."

"G'night, Kurt. And Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Dad."

Burt shuffles back to his and Carole's room and Kurt feels so much lighter than he had before. He can't figure out why he ever thought he'd want to be anywhere else for Christmas.

Blaine appears in the doorway shortly after, face freshly shaved and hair adorably curly and damp and wearing Kurt's pyjamas. He suddenly looks so much younger.

"I spoke to my dad, he knows you're here and he's fine."

"That's...good. I'm glad."

"Okay you look like you're about to fall asleep right on the spot. How about we call it a night?" Blaine smiles and it finally looks like something genuine again.

-

Kurt is eventually woken sometime around midday and still feels as though he could sleep for another year at least.

"Wake me in time for next Christmas," he mumbles into his drool-soaked pillow.

"I would but that Blaine kid is downstairs looking like he's about to bolt at any second."

_Blaine_ , Kurt suddenly remembers because _oh yeah I invited a homeless guy to live with me._

Kurt jumps out of bed and hurries downstairs, much like he did when he was younger and anticipating a tree surrounded in presents. What he finds now though is a terrified looking boy with his hands clasped between his knees as he stares pointedly at the carpet.

"Sorry," Kurt whispers, taking a seat next to him on the sofa, "I didn't mean to sleep in so late."

"Your mom's nice," Blaine says quietly, seemingly relieved at Kurt's arrival.

"Oh, you mean Carole? She's my stepmom. And yeah, she is."

It doesn't feel like Christmas. There are no presents for Kurt under the tree, all of his had been mailed to him earlier that week and are sitting in a pile in Kurt's bedroom in New York. He's mostly glad for this though, the last thing he wants is to sit and open gifts in front of Blaine who has nothing. Finn is already making his way through his own pile, sitting cross legged on the floor while Burt and Carole open their gifts from Finn and Kurt.

"I feel so terrible that we don't have anything for you boys to open. You should have told us you were coming!"

"It was a last minute decision,” Kurt says, "But it's fine, I'll just open them when I get home."

"I didn't even get anything for Blaine!"

"Hey, ain’t that Kurt's shirt?" Burt says, eyebrows raised as he nods towards Blaine who has yet to say anything. Kurt can't help but notice the way he stiffens as Burt acknowledges him.

"Uh...yeah. Blaine forgot his bag on the train," Kurt says in a moment of genius, "we were both so tired from the journey that we forgot all about it."

"I told you, Kurt, you didn't have to come," Burt tells him again but Kurt just smiles in response, knowing that they'd neither of them get anywhere arguing over it. The fact is, Kurt is home and he's beyond glad he made the decision to come back.

The rest of the day is filled with traditions both old and new, Carole gets to work on cooking dinner with help from Kurt and also Blaine, who seems overjoyed to be of assistance. Carole in turn quickly grows to adore him and Kurt can do nothing but grin giddily at the bond they've forged. Albeit he's only known Blaine for all of one day but in that short time he has yet to see him smile so bright, he wasn't sure he was capable of it until now. It's not until Burt enters the kitchen that his smile dims and his posture stiffens. The change is obvious to Kurt and he can't put his finger on why.

"Are you okay?" he asks once Carole is satisfied that Kurt and Blaine can handle the rest until the Turkey is done. "You seem a little tense."

"Kurt, this is by far the best Christmas I've ever had," Blaine says and Kurt believes him. But that doesn't stop the unsettling feeling of doubt creeping beneath his skin.

Once dinner is on the table and everyone is gathered to eat, Kurt feels a little better. Blaine looks like he could burst with gratitude and the smile that's dressing his face is one of the most heart-warming sights he's ever seen. This boy who only last night was sitting on a train headed back to who knows what kind of abuse, this boy who has known nothing but cold and hunger for the last two years, is now wearing clean clothes, surrounded by some of the best people Kurt knows and looking like there's nowhere else he could possibly call home.

Still, there's that underlying tension that Kurt can't seem to ignore. Blaine is scared of Burt. He sees it every time his dad laughs maybe a little too loudly and Blaine flinches ever so slightly in his seat. He sees it in the way Blaine can't bring himself to meet his eyes when he's spoken to.

Luckily nobody else seems to notice, too wrapped up in the festivities but Kurt can't stop thinking about it. He knows it's nothing personal against Burt, it can't possibly be that, but the reason why still nudges insistently at the back of his mind.

"So Blaine," Burt says over dinner and Kurt notices the way Blaine immediately tenses, knuckles going white as he grips his fork.

"Yes, sir?"

"You realise you're the first guy Kurt's ever brought home?"

"Dad," Kurt groans. Not this again. His dad had been making subtle hints that they were dating all day and it only seems to be making Blaine more nervous. He can't be sure why, he hopes to God that he's not homophobic or anything like that. This day has been so lovely and he really doesn't want it to be spoiled by whatever it is that seems to be happening between Blaine and his dad.

"Just saying," Burt says with a shrug, "it's gotta count for something, right?"

Blaine offers a nervous smile as he makes brief eye contact. Kurt can see the way his hand tremors just a little. This isn't normal, people don't react this way to harmless comments.

"Oh Burt, leave the poor boy alone," Carole gently chastises. Kurt throws her a grateful smile as they return to the meal. It's delicious, Blaine's idea to roast the parsnips in honey goes down amazingly and the shy smile he adorns at the compliments is enough to make Kurt's heart melt.

The rest of the dinner goes smoothly enough and once the table is the cleared, Kurt takes Blaine upstairs to his room, if only to get him away from his family for a little while. He can tell how much the company is draining Blaine even if he still can't figure out why. Luckily, Blaine is the one to bring up the subject first.

"I think you're dad thinks we're...together," he says simply as he perches hesitantly on Kurt's bed while Kurt fiddles with his old iPod dock, looking for something suitable to play.

"Sorry about him. I can tell he's making you uncomfortable," Kurt murmurs, unsure where this is going. He really, _really_ hopes that Blaine doesn't have a problem with him being gay, he doesn't seem the type to be homophobic and Kurt knows he doesn't have the heart to chuck him back out on the street if he is. It's a situation he never thought he'd be in and one that doesn't seem to have a straight forward solution.

"I just...don't want to cause any problems. I know how important your dad is to you."

"Problems?"

"I...he-"

"Blaine?" Kurt says, as Blaine tears his gaze away from Kurt's and starts wringing his hands together, shaking his head. "It's okay. You're not causing any problems. If my Dad thinks we're together then that's his mistake. He's just teasing, it's not like he has an issue with it...do you?" Blaine breathes in a shuddery breath, still shaking his head.

"I invited a guy over once and my dad...well he made sure I knew never to do anything like that ever again." Kurt's heart sinks as everything slots into places, revealing a clear picture of exactly what's going through Blaine's head. He's gay and his parents weren't so accepting of that fact. That's why he left.

"Look, Blaine. I'm gay. My dad knows and he's one hundred percent okay with that. I get that he can be a little intimidating, but I promise you have nothing to be afraid of."

"I…You…” Blaine sucks in a deep breath, “You’re so lucky to have that I…can't believe I was going to ask them if I could come home," Blaine whispers, redirecting the conversation entirely as his hands tremble in his lap. Kurt takes a few tentative steps forward. They're still practically strangers, he's not sure what level of comfort he's allowed to give this boy at this stage but he wants nothing more than to let him know that he's safe. A tear slips down Blaine's cheek as he shakes and Kurt forgets all boundaries as he takes a seat next to Blaine and wraps him up in his arms. He's all too skinny, practically drowning in Kurt's clothes and it's not until Kurt has him in his arms that he can feel just how fragile he is.

This lonely boy he found on the train sitting in his room has nothing and no one. Kurt can't even begin to imagine what that must be like. His life had been so miserable that he was willing to go back to the people who had abused him. But Kurt isn't going to let that happen, not now or ever.

"You're okay, you're safe now. You don't ever have to see them again, okay?" Blaine nods against Kurt's chest, tears staining his shirt but Kurt can't find it in himself to care.

"Thank you for this," Blaine whispers, "For everything. This has been the best Christmas ever. I don't know how to thank you."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude," Kurt's head snaps up to see Carole in the doorway. He expects Blaine to tense at the sudden company but he instead slowly sits up, allowing himself to slip away from Kurt as he offers Carole a friendly smile. "We're about to play some party games downstairs if you wanted to join us?"

"We'll be down in a sec," Kurt says and Carole leaves them be.

"I guess this doesn't exactly help convince your family that we're not a couple," Blaine says with a short laugh.

"It doesn't matter what they think." Kurt hadn't realised until now that their hands are linked, resting innocently on the bed between them. He gives Blaine's hand a squeeze, assuring him once again that he's okay, he's safe here. He has no idea what he's doing if he's honest, all that seems to be important is making sure Blaine feels safe. Making him feel at home. Making him know that although it doesn’t seem like it, not everyone will abandon him.

He has no idea what compels him to do it, but once Kurt finds himself leaning forward, it's as if Blaine is a magnet, drawing him in. Their lips connect with a sharp intake of breathe, whom it belongs to Kurt isn't sure, probably both of them. Kurt lets every thought drain from his mind as they kiss, focusing only on the way Blaine's bottom lip quivers and the soft touch of his mouth pressing back with such fragile determination.

Blaine is the first to pull away, ducking his head in an attempt to disguise the rapid reddening of his cheeks. Kurt's heart hammers as the realisation takes hold and he's not quite sure where to go from here or even what it means that he just kissed the homeless stranger he'd met the previous day. Except he’s neither homeless, nor a stranger anymore.

"We should...we should go downstairs," Blaine suggests, evidently noticing the sudden awkwardness that has commandeered the situation.

"Yeah," Kurt agrees with a nod.

Downstairs, the awkwardness is dispersed by the party games. There's no time to think of fumbling first kisses when you're trying to mime _Jaws_ in a game of charades. Still, there are the occasional moments of eye contact that has Kurt's stomach swimming in butterflies and judging from the way Blaine is quick to avert his gaze when Kurt catches him staring, he'd say the feeling was mutual.

 

 


End file.
